


Rainy Daze

by chinchillasinunison



Series: Lord of the Flies Monster AU [4]
Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinchillasinunison/pseuds/chinchillasinunison
Summary: Siren!Jack Merridew and his monster choir snuggle during a thunderstorm. Yes, it is as adorable and slightly ooc as it sounds.





	Rainy Daze

One thing Jack Merridew never expected after turning in a terrible feathered beast was how much goddamn preening he had to do. It nearly took up all his time, keeping his plumage nice and neat for the flying he didn’t even know how to do yet. He suspected that he’d done more personal grooming in this form than he ever did as a human boy. One benefit to this, however, was that when a tropical rainstorm rolled in, as they often did on this island, his feathers were properly waterproofed.

As the skies grew dark and the air humid, the siren was prepared to sit out the downpour on a log at the edge of the forest, sheltering himself partially with foliage and letting his feathers pick up any slack. And he did do this, but not exactly in the same way he planned.

As he settled on his perch, talons digging snuggly into the wood, he felt a tug on one of his primaries. He glanced over his wing and saw two black button eyes staring back at him.

“Oh! Hello, Henry. What do you want?”

The poppet lifted one of the primaries and put it atop his head, then gestured to the sky.

“Oh? You want me to hide you from the rain?”

The poppet nodded.

Jack thought the proposition over a moment. He wasn't a nurturing sort by any stretch of the imagination, but he thought of how Henry's entirely fabric body would react to the weather. A follower with a waterlogged body would be too heavy to move himself for a while, and in that time, useless to him. So, from a practical point of view, it just made sense to help.

“Alright,” he said with some reservation, opening one of his wings, “get in.”

The little living doll quickly snuggled up with the soft, dry, creamy white feathers of Jack's belly. He rubbed his face in the plush plumage, and Jack Merridew couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

“Alright, alright, don't push your luck,” he joked half-heartedly. Then he went quiet a few minutes, shutting his eyes in pursuit of a good rest.

Feet plodded in the wet sand before him and his eyelids drifted apart. Standing right in front of him was… himself. Himself, but with a nose instead of a beak, and hair atop his head instead of feathers. It took Jack a few moments to process and identify the human duplicate.

“Bill?”

The hobgoblin, in the form of Jack as his previous species, stepped back, grinning.

“It took you less time to figure it out this time 'round!”

He looked Bill over, befuddled, “Why me?”

“Your legs are the longest,” he said, kicking one in the air, “I cover more ground that way.”

Jack tossed his head from side to side, parroting the phrase back mockingly. Then he noticed his double’s hands cupped and held out, and observed it for a second or two.

“And what’ve you got there?”

“Robert.” Then he clarified, “You know, he can't fly in rain and all, what with how little he is…”

He leaned under the cover of the palm leaves above, and removed his top hand. Sure enough, cradled in his other hand was the tiny Robert. His glittery, insectoid wings flitted out and his curled antennae perked. His shy greeting to the choir leader was barely audible.

“Merridew,” Bill addressed him properly, “would you mind if he… just… ya know…”

Jack sighed, “Oh, alright--”

The little fairy fluttered from the fake’s hand to the real Jack's head, nesting between the red feathers that had replaced the boy’s hair long ago.

“--but if my scalp starts flaking pixie dust, you’ll  _ wish _ we had a flyswatter here!” he threatened.

Jack looked back to his doppelganger, “And you?”

“Oh, no, I need no shelter,” said Bill, “so long as I turn into something more appropriate for this weather...”

With this, he turned around and strolled straight ahead of Jack's roosting spot, right into the rain, which was coming down fast and hard now. Jack wondered at first what he was doing, but then Bill turned back to face him and started sprinting towards him. When the distance between them halved, Bill dropped down on all fours. Jack braced himself a little, just in case. Bill leapt forward and Jack shut his eyes in anticipation. Feeling just a little tap, he opened his eyes to discover a little green tree frog sitting on his shoulder.

“God, do you really have to be such a ham?”

“Oh, you're one to talk…”

Eyeing the little amphibian reminded him of Simon. He loves handling little critters like that. What was he doing right now? Probably sheltering Piggy with his wings in just the same way he was doing, to prevent him from melting. And maybe Samneric would be tucked in there as well, blowing tiny flames to keep the group warm and dry. Ralph wouldn't be involved, though, as he would be thriving in this weather. Percival must be spending the storm as an unusually warm puddle…

Ugh, why was he still thinking about these people? It wasn't as if he cared what they were doing. They had their own lives, he had his. Still…

“Jack!”

The shout jarred him out of his musings, and he looked towards the sound. Maurice stood beside him, hopping from one hoof to the other nervously.

“Jack, I need your help! Can I, uhh, can you…?”

He tapped him on the wing.

“What? No, not you too!” he lamented, “Why?”

“Look, I don't wanna get into the gory details, but… Jack, wool shrinks when it's wet, doesn't it? And, Jack, my entire lower half is covered in wool.”

“That's not how it works! If it were, you’d see sheep all strangled up with their own wool on the fields back home.”

“How do you know? Have you ever sat and watched sheep in the rain? Are you a sheep-ologist?”

“I mean... I guess you're right, I don't really know…”

“Look, I just don't want my legs to fall off, alright?”

“Maurice,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, “your legs won't fall off.”

“Yes they will!” the satyr insisted, “If the fleece shrinks and cuts off the blood flow to 'em, they’ll shrivel up and die! Is that what you want, Merridew?! Do you want my legs to fall off?!”

“You know, Maurice, you’ve got a very woolly head, too,” said Jack slyly, “Are you sure it's not cutting off circulation to your brain as well?”

Maurice gasped, in that moment unaware of the joke played on him, “Oh my gosh, I didn't even think of that!”

Jack giggled at Maurice's grave reaction, and that made other pout in realization that he was being ridiculed. This was just friendly teasing however, and Jack unfurled his wing in a welcoming gesture.

“Get in here, you doofus!”

Maurice sat beside him and Jack wrapped his wing around his shoulders. They snickered quietly between each other, but it died out swiftly, making way for a comfortable ambiance. The rain pattered and the thunder rolled like a colossal drum. Jack Merridew felt… content. There was some sort of warmth here, sitting all nuzzled up with his choir. It felt… friendly. He wasn't a boy that was used to friendliness.

“You look like a goon, you know, grinning like that,” a voice beside him snarked. Jack looked over and saw Roger's severed head, the rest of him standing behind the log, holding it up.

“Oh, shut up and join us!” Jack shot back teasingly, “You know you want to…”

Roger stepped over the log, “Pshaw! As if! I don't know if you realize this, Merridew, but I'm the furthest thing from cuddly.”

Lightning flashed and the heavy air cracked with thunder. Roger jumped, dropping his head. The body snatched it back before it could roll out into the storm.

“But I guess I should stick with you,” he added when he got resituated, “to, umm, keep dry…”

He sat down on the log, head on his lap, body leaning against Jack, who smiled in bemused victory. Then, as the atmosphere finally quieted down and there were no more interruptions, Jack began to sing. It was a soft, soothing lullaby, and as his enchanted voice lilted, he and his choir slowly fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is kinda ooc but I've just had the image of Siren!Jack shielding his choir from the rain with his massive wings for a long time, and I think I made it work. He's still a little boy, you know, and deep down you know he's thriving off the attention and affection.


End file.
